Michaela Shtilman-Minkin

Walking endlessly down into darkness,

Not even a single light to guide her way

She keeps on walking and walking,

Without a rest, down through the infinitely long stairway

But she is not afraid, nor tired, since she knows

She will get there, soon, and go in through the gates

She does, and enters as always, into where

Her heart truly lies since time immemorial

They say dreamers often lie,

But she insists he will be there, forever waiting her embrace

Wide awake as always, she expects him there,

But all she meets instead of, is an empty place

Instead of the small garden, full of roses

 She was expecting, an endless sea came to be

“What is this place?”

She panics and looks around

“A beginning,”

Grimly replies the melancholy sea

“Where is my love?” she desperately cried out loud

“Him? He was never here,” he responded gloomily,

“We always told you that you created a mere illusion,

In a midsummer night’s dream.”

She refused to believe, but then she looked,

Deep inside, her heart was back in its place

Not broken, yet fragile, beating in mist

But the mist cleared, and the sea her assured,

“You might have not heard this before, my dear,

But he was merely a small fish, not a whale.

He seemed like the world, the sky! Nevertheless, darling,

A fish is a fish, and he is not the only one.

Although brittle her heart

She decided to go heck out the fish with a brilliant smile,

So she braced her heart, and dived into the sea,

Looking for the right, one, fish, worthy of her heart.